


fly high, little bird || huntress origin story

by crashingwaters



Series: Dead by Daylight Lore Stories [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Huntress origin story, Including child death, Murder, The Huntress - Freeform, there are descriptions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashingwaters/pseuds/crashingwaters
Summary: "From a young age, younger than Anna could remember, her mother had taught her about survival. Being the one on top of the food chain mattered more than anything. She and her mother were all alone in the small cabin they called home, surrounded by miles and miles of trees and whatever beasts resided in the darkness. The days were long and difficult, drawing up fresh water from the well and helped her mother cook whatever was left in their food storage. There were traps to be set, animals to be skinned and cleaned, and a winter to survive. During the night, Anna and her mother were allowed a break from their harsh lifestyle. Her mother would brush her hair and hum Anna’s favorite lullaby as she played with the wooden toys and masks that were crafted for her. It was just her and her mother, alone in the endless woods."
Series: Dead by Daylight Lore Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010436
Kudos: 4





	fly high, little bird || huntress origin story

From a young age, younger than Anna could remember, her mother had taught her about survival. Being the one on top of the food chain mattered more than anything. She and her mother were all alone in the small cabin they called home, surrounded by miles and miles of trees and whatever beasts resided in the darkness. The days were long and difficult, drawing up fresh water from the well and helped her mother cook whatever was left in their food storage. There were traps to be set, animals to be skinned and cleaned, and a winter to survive. During the night, Anna and her mother were allowed a break from their harsh lifestyle. Her mother would brush her hair and hum Anna’s favorite lullaby as she played with the wooden toys and masks that were crafted for her. It was just her and her mother, alone in the endless woods. 

* * *

The snow had a satisfying crunch underneath Anna’s boots. Her mother was tracking a great elk that had passed by the cabin earlier last night, leaving behind large hoof prints in the glimmering snow. They did not usually hunt after such large game, but the winter had been tough for the both of them. Anna felt gnawing hunger grasp her stomach like a clawed hand. The fear of starvation outweighed her fear of the elk. 

Her mother put her hand in front of Anna to stop her. She looked up and saw what her mother was pointing to, the massive beast sniffing the snow only a few meters ahead of them. Its antlers captured Anna’s attention, they towered above it and looked like the winter tree branches with their spindly limbs. 

While Anna had been admiring the antlers of the elk, the animal had frozen and turned on alert. Without warning, the elk let out a bellow that echoed through the dark forest. It reared onto its hind legs and charged straight for her. Anna felt the ground shaking beneath her, but she couldn’t move no matter how much she tried. She knew her hatchet was clasped at her hip but fear paralyzed her hands as she fumbled for it. Closer, closer,  _ closer  _ still the elk came, close enough for Anna to see the fury in its eyes. 

She felt a hand push her into the snow. Anna looked up to see her mother, clutching her axe in her hand and a grim look upon her face. Her mother had taken her place, but the elk was too close, it was going to-

A horrible, blood-curling scream rang clear through the woods. Her mother was hoisted into the air by the elk’s huge antlers. Time seemed to freeze for Anna. There was her mother, suspended in the air like some sort of broken doll. Her stomach had been pierced, dripping blood that bounced off the snow, staining it a sickly red. Anna’s eyes flitted to her mother’s face, a range of emotions being displayed. Rage, determination, and… fear? Her mother grunted loudly in pain and lifted her arm deliberately and slowly. Clutching the axe, she brought it down on the elk’s head. Over and over and over she struck, the beast crying and bellowing as it tried to shake her loose. 

_ Snap! _

The antler broke off, her mother falling onto the ground with a cry of pain. Anna felt the adrenaline rush into her body and she tore herself off the ground and ran to her mother.

“Mama!” She whispered tearfully, her hands grasping her mother’s. She could smell the bitter iron of the blood from where she stood, overpowering all of her senses. She turned to look at the elk but her mother grabbed her face and pulled her close. 

“Anna, don’t look!” Her mother was gasping for air. “Just keep your eyes on me,” 

Anna whimpered and looked at her mother who had a look of desperation to her. Her mother was repeating over and over, “I love you, I love you so much.” 

“Mama, I’m scared.” She was sobbing now. “Mama, please don’t leave me. Mama, please.”

Her mother pulled her into a hug and began combing her fingers through Anna’s hair, just like she did every night. She started to hum her favorite lullaby. Anna could feel her tears running down her face as she hummed along. Her mother’s voice was getting raspier and quieter with each intake of breath. She held her daughter a little more closely. 

Anna realized that she was the only one humming. She didn’t have the heart to open her eyes to look. She kept on humming, feeling her mother’s body get colder in her arms. Eventually, it was too cold to stay there any longer. She was too small and weak to even move her mother’s body back, she would have to lay where she died. 

Anna finally looked upon her mother’s face one last time. Her body looked so small next to the dead elk. All of the fear and desperation that was on her face in her final moments were gone, replaced by a serene smile. She sniffled and closed her mother’s eyes so that she may have peace in death. She stood up and looked into the silent forest around her.

For the first time in her entire life, Anna was alone. 

* * *

Even though Anna was nothing more than a child, the teachings of her mother still rang true. She knew enough to survive in the wild, trusting only her instincts and skill. She widened her hunting territory and used her mother’s hatchets to take down her prey. Anna had truly become one with the wild. Without anybody to speak to, her language became garbled and slow. Her toys had been left abandoned, scattered on the rug in front of the hearth.

As she got older, she only honed her hunting skills. Though her humanity felt more like a half-remembered dream, her mother’s saying repeatedly playing through her head.  _ Make sure you’re on top of the food chain.  _ Eventually, Anna grew tired of hunting only for meals. She began hunting for the feeling of it, the chill that went down her spine when her hatchet found its mark. Anna moved to more dangerous prey, taking down wolves separated from their packs and even bears. She never touched the elks that roamed free in the forest, though she couldn’t exactly remember why.

Despite the thrill of taking down the large game that lived around her cabin, Anna felt like there was still more. The bears that still dared to roam were easy marks now. Anna wanted more, to feel the comfortable weight of the hatchet as it hurled towards her target, the chase of a wounded animal. 

Her curiosity pushed the edges of her territory further and further. A worn-down path was discovered west of her cabin and upon further inspection, a plethora of footsteps were found scattered all over. Some were fresh, others had faded with time. Anna saw tracks that looked brand new in the soft muddy snow. She dropped into an instinctive hunting crouch and slowly began to follow.

It wasn’t long until she came upon the ones making the tracks. They were… human. Like her. Could she even call herself a human?

There was a big tall one, masculine features, a walking stick clasped in his palm. The other one, shorter and stouter, walking along with him. There was a little girl bouncing in her arms.

Anna was fascinated by the little girl. Is that what she looked like all those years ago? The little girl was giggling and begging her mother to bounce her higher. Anna watched as the mother bounced her higher and higher, until-

The girl’s cries rang out into the forest. Her mother had accidentally dropped her onto the dirt path. Anna felt her stomach drop as the sound of her tears reached her. Before she knew it, she had a hatchet in her hand.

_ “Huh!”  _ A small noise of exertion came out of her. The hatchet flew through the air, spinning with deadly aim, until it hit its target. The scream of pain made her smile. The woman was clutching her arm, the one that had been outstretched to help the little girl. 

With a grimace, Anna noticed that the man - he had to be the father - had spotted her. He threw himself between herself and his family.

“What do you want?” He shouted. “Who are you?”

She didn’t fully understand that question. Who was she? Why did it matter?

The little girl’s distressed cries only grew stronger as she clutched to her mother’s skirt. Anna took a step forward. Something in her connected to the girl. Despite not being able to place the feeling, she wanted to help. That crying sounded so… familiar.

“Stand back!” The man shouted again. He was visibly shaking and his tone warbled with fear. 

What kind of man was this, unable to take care of a child? The feeling was replaced with rage. A hatchet left her hand.

The man slumped against a tree silently, the metal embedded in his stomach. His were wide open in fear and blood trickled out of his mouth. The strong smell wafted towards her and she grimaced. Humans smelled much worse than animals, an iron stench.

A wretched scream ripped out of the woman, attracting Anna’s attention. Her hand was gripped to her bloody shoulder. The small child was crying hysterically next to her mother with an iron grasp to her skirt. Anna took a step towards them and the woman began to back up. The child wouldn’t move, planted into the ground like an iron fence.

Anna lifted her larger hatchet, using both hands to swing her weight with it. She brought it upon the woman with a sickening crunch. The hatchet was stuck in her head, the wooden handle splattered in scarlet. It looked so foreign against the woman’s straw hair. She fell down with a thump and Anna braced her foot against her body to rip her hatchet out. 

The little girl’s cries had also gone silent. Anna turned to take a good look at her. She was small, smaller than Anna thought she was. Her light hair matched her mother’s and was neatly pleated. She wore simple clothes, but they were light and did nothing to combat the harsh winter of the forest. Anna turned to the mother’s body and ripped the skirt off her to wrap around the small child. The woman’s pale legs blended into the snow.

“She do not need this anymore,” Anna stuttered. It had been years since her lips uttered any words and her words were slow. 

The child looked up at her, arms wrapped around herself. “What did you do to them?” Her voice was nothing but a soft whisper.

Anna didn’t answer right away. She thought a moment and answered, “They hurt. I take.” She gently laid the torn fabric on the girl’s shoulders and scooped her up into her arms.

“Where are we going?” The girl sniffled. “I don’t want to leave mommy and daddy there.”

“Home.”

* * *

Anna set the child down in front of the hearth. It hadn’t been touched in quite some time. For her, it brought back memories that she didn’t understand. She remembered sitting in front of the fire with somebody. Somebody she loved. A familiar tune came to her lips.

The girl sat shivering in the darkness of the cabin. Her eyes looked unfocused and her chapped mouth was slightly parted to take in shallow breaths. Anna knelt in front of her and she winced.

“I do not hurt you,” She said. Her hand reached out to the girl, a wooden toy in her palm. The girl did not take it.

Anna frowned but put it down. “Do not leave cabin. You get hurt.” 

Again, no response.

She got off her knees and looked around the cabin. From a drawer that had fallen out of the dresser, she procured a length of rope. Anna vaguely remembered being taught how to knot, the rope already having several in it.

Anna approached the girl again. She grabbed her wrists and tied them to the metal grate in the hearth. The child whimpered as the ropes dug into her skin with a rough bite.

“Do  _ not  _ leave.” She ordered sternly. A quiet sniffle was her only response.

* * *

It had been a few nights since Anna had taken the girl. She felt something warm in her whenever she looked at her. She knew she was keeping her safe. If she was stuck in the house, the girl would never get hurt. 

But something was wrong with her. She was impossibly pale, a faded ghost. Her bones stuck out and her face was gaunt. Every night, Anna hummed her favorite lullaby to her and did her best to brush her hair with her fingers. Her own hair had long since been chopped off, it got in the way in a hunt.

After a week, a horrible stench wafted off the child. She didn’t speak anymore, though she hardly did before. Anna didn’t care. She still cuddled the child every night and hummed.

Two weeks passed, the smell was almost unbearable.

Three weeks. Anna looked at the little girl sadly. She was limp in her arms. Breath hadn’t passed through her in quite some time. Her body was held close to Anna as she sobbed. 

Death was all too familiar of a concept to her. 

Anna gently took the fabric off her shoulders and tucked it into her belt. She held the child’s small hand in her own. It looked so fragile in her own dirty palm.

She picked up a forgotten mask by the hearth and clasped it over the little girl’s face to hide the scared look painted on her face. The pale pink cat mask innocently stared back at her.

-LINE BREAK-

When the child died, a piece of Anna’s humanity died with her. She craved that warm feeling when she held her. 

Anna slaughtered, the blend of humans and animals mixed up in her head. She began to hum more often. Something in her was still human, barely clinging to what resemblance of it was left. Maybe it was that minuscule bit of humanity that stopped her from killing the little ones. They would get dragged back into her cabin for her to keep like pets. Some ran away, trying to escape. But the woods were unsafe and Anna would catch them. She hung those ones on the wall to stop them from running into the dangerous wilderness.

Every death drove her deeper into madness. 

Eventually, the humans stopped showing up. Loud booms were often and the constant  _ rat-a-tat-tat  _ that sounded like woodpeckers. Sometimes she’d find men that were holding some strange object they always pointed at her. Her hatchets would find them first.

Anna was no longer human, she had morphed into something far different. She lived to kill. The fall of the bodies, the bitter stench of blood. They would always run, beg for their lives. The words fell to deaf ears. She craved the hunt.

She went under a new name, something she had heard shouted at her over and over.

Huntress.

  
  
  
  



End file.
